Disclaimer: I am not making any money of this publication. No copyright infringement is intended.

Chapter 1

Winry

۞


Edward sighed irritably and put his head on the table, his metal fingers tapping impatiently on the wooden surface. Winry had left hours ago to do some auto-mail repairs for some Mr. Conway, repairs on the other side of Resembool, and she was taking forever! Edward had planned this day for weeks, and because of some stupid farmer it had been completely ruined!

He snarled silently with frustration and pounded his right first into the table, causing it to creak alarmingly underneath him. Suddenly, he stood up when he heard a noise at the front door. However, it soon became apparent that it wasn't Winry as a knock resounded throughout the house. Edward looked around the Rockbell residence for a second and growled when he remembered that he was the only one at home.

(Old Granny Pinako had gone with Al to visit Hohenheim in Germany; Edward had opted to stay behind and keep Winry company. He didn't want to visit his old man in Germany, anyway.)

He walked to the front door and roughly yanked open the door, letting in the hot, humid, summer air in as he did. Edward blinked a few times, confused. No one was there. He looked down and noticed a letter lying inconspicuously on the front step. He looked around again and then slowly stooped down to pick up the letter. With a last look outside, he went back into the house and shut the door behind him, the letter held tightly in his left hand.

The envelope was plain, just a simple white envelope. However, both the address and addressee were written in a flowing hand, and whoever had written it had used bright, lime green ink. It was addressed to him: Edward Elric. His impatience about Winry momentarily forgotten, he tore open the envelope and opened the letter. His heart stopped for a few seconds, and then painfully started to pump again when he read the first line. Edward started to pant as he continued to read, his eyes fiercely going back and forth across the page. The letter dropped from suddenly numb fingers and a scream of rage could be heard throughout Resembool.

When the letter finally settled down onto the Rockbell residence's floor, the first line could be read:

We have the girl. We will kill her if you do not comply with our demands.


Edward paced. Back and forth he paced within the Rockbell's kitchen. Edward had been at it for hours. At first, he could barely think after reading the letter. Hell, in those first few hours, Edward could hardly breathe much less think concisely.

First, he had ran to the old farmer's residence. When Edward had arrived, breathing heavily and a painful stitch in his side, he had babbled incoherently. The farmer's wife, concerned, had pulled Edward into her house and brought him a cup of tea. The tea had calmed him down enough to demand to know where Winry was. However, he soon discovered that Winry had never made it to the farm and the family had been wondering when the young miss would arrive, as their father was unable to work the fields in his current state and needed to have his repairs as soon as possible. He had been unable to control himself when the family said this. Edward had shouted that nobody could give a danm about their father and that he could die for all the world would care. He didn't care, not when Winry was in danger. Edward had then stormed out of the house, the slamming shut behind him. In his wake, he left behind a scene of shock etched faces; the family's eyes were wide and their mouth's agape. He had slowly made his way back to the Rockbell residence, thinking a little clearly, but he couldn't think of why somebody would want to take Winry. However, when had finally arrived at the house, it dawned on him. They, whoever they were, had taken Winry to get to him, to make him obey, to be their dog. Well, he would have become their dog, for Winry he would become anything, but they had made one serious error. He would never allow anyone to take Winry hostage, and for that, they would pay. Edward would make them bleed.


Earlier that day

Winry hurried down the dusty, dirt road, sweat running down her face and back. The humidity was horrid, and any sane person would be sitting in the shade with a cold glass of lemonade, preferably with a fane blowing to dispense of the hot air. However, Winry wasn't a very sane person. Therefore, she found herself hurrying down a very dusty, dirt road, whenthe sun was at its highest peak, because she had received a message of a farmer in need and unable to walk. He had apparently blown out both of his auto-mail knees. He didn't say how; that usually meant the owner had done it by doing something stupid. If she had learned anything from her dealings with Edward, it was this: silence always meant some stupidity on their part, always. She had along with her other tools, her special extra-large wench; for the repairs, she told herself firmly. But if her gut was right, and it usually was, she had it just in case she had to teach the farmer a lesson on how to properly treat auto-mail. With respect and admiration! Heaven knows how many times she had tried to teach that to Edward; however, no matter how many times she scolded him for damaging his auto-mail -her sweat-build love!- no matter what she did, he always broke it sooner or later (usually sooner). However, secretly, blushing at the thought, she liked that he broke his auto-mail so often because that meant that she got to be close to him, to touch him. Winry treasured those moments with him and remembered them with affection.

Ed had planned something special today. He wouldn't say what though no matter how many times she bugged him to tell her. However, judging from his expression when she had left, he had been planning this day for a very long time. She hated to ruin his plans, but someone in need always took first priority in her book, and Edward had to understand that she was going were she needed to go.

Winry looked around as she got to a crossroads and turned left heading into a wooded area. If the messenger was right, the farm was just on the other side of the woods. She sighed, hitching her tool bag strap to her other shoulder and wiped the sweat from her brow. Sweat was now freely running down her body and her clothes were fast becoming soaked.

She trudged forward, wishing she was with Edward, wishing she had cold glass of lemonade. She paused when she heard a faint rustling, as if someone -or something- were padding through the woods. She looked at a nearby bush, suspicious, and jumped when a raccoon scurried out and ran across the path, disappearing into the brush. She laughed at her foolishness and hurried up the path her head down, eager to finish with the repairs so she could get back to Edward. She therefore didn't see when two hooded figures came out from behind her, and pull out two slender sticks.

"Stupfy!" the figures shouted in unison, red beams coming from their sticks and headed straight for Winry.

Winry turned, surprised; however, it was too late, and blackness engulfed her as the light hit her.


Please tell me what you thought. : )